Survive the Horde
by WhisperTheChosen
Summary: You've seen many zombie apocalypse movies, yeah? I bet you never thought it would become reality. The world that we knew is simply gone...and those movies we saw? All of it is reality. It's time to lock and load in order to survive the horde. Rated T for cursing and whatnot; may be changed to rated M when/if fighting scenes get more graphic. Reviews are most welcome.
1. Chapter 1

YEEEEEE. In addition to Persona and FE, I'm also hooked on L4D. DEALWITHIT.

'Nyways, this story-Survive the Horde-was created sometime last year...a little bit before Halloween, if I remember correctly. I'm just posting it now because I got lazy to do so back then. HAH.

Keep in mind that I may discontinue this story in time, so don't be surprised if I delete this story series. Apologies in advance if you grow to like this story and I take it down; it's just how it's gonna go.

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You've heard many stories of zombies, correct…? All those movies, telling how the world falls down to a sort of virus that makes everything and everyone as we know it completely lose it and soon fall into a zombie-like status? I bet you thought that all of that shit would never happen…but I got some grand news to tell you.

…You were fuckin' wrong, my friends.

A low chorus of moaning slowly made its way down an alley, followed by the crash and clutter of trashcans and dumpsters. All of these various sounds bounced off of the alley's walls, creating a rather eerie, and also deafening, echo throughout the area. For a few moments, there was nothing in sight…you may think that everything was so, due to possible 'ghostly' figures treading within the shadows. However…that isn't the true reason…ohhh, not at all.

The low chorus grew louder…louder…gradually raising in volume every few seconds. It soon split off as a roar of rage boomed and bounced off the walls; it was soon followed by a distorted, immense and bulky figure busting its way around the alley corner. A final few moments of groaning and moaning were heard, just before several human-like figures flew through the air. They each slammed into the walls, their blood splattering and painting a small portion of the structure and the skies before finally falling to the floor. There was one unfortunate, corrupted human…or, at least what used to be a human…that laid on the floor, resuming its mindless, clueless moans. It was soon silenced in a second, as the foot of the bulky creature crashed down, crushing its head as if it were a spider getting splattered by a shoe, book…whatever you'd use. Slowly, the foot lifted, and a growl sounded before the creature raked its heels across the concrete in an attempt to get several bits of rotten meat and brains off.

High above on the rooftops sat a hooded figure…and he seemed to have caught everything that just happened down below. He let a few low chuckles loose, having enjoyed seeing that poor group of infected dying…again. What made him crack up even more was the fact that a new, fresher group of infected that happened to survive were crowded around the deceased. They each quickly tore into the dead bodies, digging their bloodied hands into the mangle of rotten organs and such, shoving them into their mouths and releasing the occasional choke and snort as they chewed rather loudly. The figure up high slowly pulled his hood down, revealing his spiky, grey and dirtied hair, as well as his golden eyes. They stared down below, locked onto that small, cannibalistic portion of infected that was part of the horde. Watching them feed so freely upon their own kind…it would make a normal being vomit in disgust, most likely. Unfortunately…the hoodie-clad male wasn't normal. No…not any longer; not since he'd been turned into one of…them.

He felt his hunger rise. After giving his neck a loud, sickening crack, he lifted himself to his feet. After taking a few steps back, he went into a sprint back in the forwards direction, leaping down various structures to touch onto the land below. Once he reached the concrete, he instantly pounced ahead of himself, tackling a common infected who-like almost every other infected-wasn't paying attention. As it swiped-it was all it could do, like most other common infected-the hooded figure opened his left fist. A string was pulled, and soon a blade pulled out from under his sleeve. Quickly, he stabbed it into the undead's throat, slicing it both left and right. After he found that he'd beheaded the body, he quickly tore an arm from it, going into another freerunning sequence before any of the others around him started to crowd into his space. Just as the large, distorted figure from before went into a sudden charge towards him, the grey-haired boy ran up the wall, gripped onto the edge of the lowest building, then hauled himself up. He continued his sprint, leaping across other alleys below, while taking the occasional bite from the arm he had acquired.

Soon enough, he stopped running and leaping. It just happened to be when he ran out of the arm's meat, too. This arm alone would've filled a single common infected…maybe. This infected's hunger was still bothering him, though. He was still craving…though, his crave didn't seem to be for meat any longer. No…he felt that he needed something of…well, another taste. A whole other taste.

As the male-looking in his late teens-reached the upcoming alley, he made a leap downwards. His feet locked onto the wall he was headed for, and he soon kicked off to the area behind him and landed on the ground once again. The horde wasn't here…or, at least most of them. He listened silently, catching the sound of weeping and screeching. He walked forward until he reached an area where the alley split both left and right. He continued to listen silently, finally making his mind up. Both weeps of agony…they came from both directions, and, unfortunately, they both seemed pretty close. Now seeming more cautious, the teen sighed and slowly turned, continuing his walk in the western direction.

After a about seven minutes or so, though, he came to a slow stop. In front of him stood a run-down store. He took a look in both directions, left and right, continuing through the open doors as he still saw none of the horde nearby. There was still those screeches ringing through the air, though. Those screeches…they seemed to belong to a type of special infected called the 'Witches.' Weak and frail they did look, but get too close, or maybe startle them…and you might as well be dead. He'd have to be careful when he left…

The teen dragged his feet through the deserted aisles, sliding his hand along the dust-covered shelves. He took a moment to lift his hand to stare at the dirt he had collected, soon grunting and blowing all of it off after seeing the start of a pile forming on his skin. After giving his head a quick shake, he sighed before continuing forward through the shadowed aisles. After only a few more seconds of resuming his stride, he came to yet another stop. In front of him stood another shelf, but unlike the others, it actually had something spread across it.

Slowly, he brought his right hand up to the top shelf. He wrapped his fingers around a bag, turning around slowly to see the word 'sugar' labeled on it. A small smile spread across his face as he poked a small hole into the sack. He tipped it over a little bit, holding his left hand underneath the gap to catch several of the falling grains of sweetness. After standing the bag back on its bottom, he lifted his left hand upwards in a sort of cupped shape. His head leaned backwards slightly as he covered his mouth, letting the sugar fall in and dissolve slowly. As the sweet taste overwhelmed his tastebuds, he reeled his hand from his mouth, clapping any excess sugar that clung to his hands off. Once again, he gripped the top of the sugar pack with his right hand, careful not to spill any of its contents onto the floor. He then made his way back out of the building, picking up several lollipops that had been stationed on the same shelf before doing so.

On his way out, the infected tucked the bag of sugar underneath his arm as he gripped the stick of a lollipop with his right hand. After unwrapping it and laying the head of the candy in his mouth, he tossed the plastic wrapper away then took a hold of the bag once again. His feet dragged along the ground, kicking up small amounts of dirt as he made his way back into the western entrance of the alley. He continued forward rather quietly, soon coming to a stop as a sound rang through his ears again.

…Those Witches from earlier. Their screeches and cries were still haunting the alley…and they seemed to be closer, and growing louder every other minute.

After releasing a slightly frustrated and annoyed groan, the grey-skinned boy shook his head and continued forward, now seeming to be much slower and cautious. For a good half minute or so, he seemed to remain safe. It was when he took a turn around a corner, and back the way he had come from earlier, though, that he encountered a pretty big problem. In a quick, silent manner, he stopped himself from moving forward. His eyes stared at what seemed to be a blonde-haired female, sitting and weeping in front of him. Like every other Witch, she wore a pretty…exposing type of clothing; it was just a rag-like shirt covering the top half of her torso, and another rag-like material covering the her lower half. Her back was turned to him, her head hanging down as he assumed that the usual tears of unknown sadness were running down her face. And of course…she was sitting in the center area of the alleyway, blocking the way.

The boy's left eye seemed to twitch quite a bit, seeing this 'obstacle' in his path. His right hand lifted, and he gave off yet another frustrated sigh as he raked it through his hair. "Just…my fucking luck…life must hate me," he murmured quietly through gritted teeth. His voice was very low as he talked himself, because he didn't want to startle the frail beast in front of him. Not that startling her would even matter, though…

He slowly-very slowly-turned around, careful not to make any loud noises and whatnot. It was then that another screech sounded…and judging from how loud it sounded, he guessed that the source from the scream was right behind him. His head shook as thoughts raced through his head, and he desperately kept repeating a few words to himself. "Nope, she's not there…not there…not there, not the-ahhh, shit."

By the time he had fully turned around, the infected saw the second Witch standing in front of him. She had deep black shade of hair, as well as the usual red eyes that her type of infected had. Her eyes seemed to be blazing from rage, and due to the sudden anger she now held, she released a deafening screech. The hooded figure's eyes shot wide open; he could hear the scream bouncing off of the buildings around him. It was loud…too loud, and was most likely going to set off the second undead in just a few…

…moments.

In reaction to the sudden cry, the Witch who was blocking the way sprung up to her feet almost immediately. Like the one the boy was facing, her eyes were now blazing like the fires of Hell. He cursed rather loudly to himself, just before he made a sprint to the left. The two infected behind him dashed after him, but thankfully, he had leaped onto a closed dumpster and had hauled himself up to the safety of a roof before he had gotten completely shredded. While he continued to try and catch his breath, he turned around, crouching at the rooftop's ledge. He stared down below, gazing at the two raging Witches down below. After letting a few more of the racing thoughts soar through his mind, an idea made its way into his mind. A while back, he had met another infected-he appeared to be a Smoker-and had managed to talk to him for a little while. In the conversation the two had, he remembered the Smoker mentioning some kind of relationship between Witches and all sorts of sweet shit…

Slowly, the teen brought his gaze to the area underneath his left arm. Held in between was the sugar bag; it was still there-which honestly surprised him-but it had lost a good amount of its contents. After adjusting the position the lollipop was in within his mouth, he shook his head and decided to drop the bag down below. As soon as it touched down to the floor, the hooded male grew shocked as he witnessed both undead gradually calming down. They both turned around after time, shuffling silently to the bag of sugar-or what was left of it-and taking a seat on either side of it.

His jaw was dropped as far as it could go. It was that easy…it was that fucking easy. "You enjoying it?" he called down, his now-narrowed eyes locked onto the two below. For a good few moments, all he received in reply were moments of silence. After a little bit, the black-haired Witch licked her claws of the sugar she had picked up, then looked up to gaze at the figure above. Tears were streaming down her eyes again, which signaled the usual, normal sadness of that type of infected…but thankfully, her gaze seemed to show no hostility.

She gave a small nod of her head, blinking quietly before following the action with a one-word reply: "Yeah." As he heard this, he tilted his head to the side. His eyes were a opened a little wider, now but not as wide as before.

"You…you can talk?" he questioned in a shocked tone. After waiting a moment or two, he shook his head, carefully moving away from the ledge. He touched down onto the dumpster below, then leaped off of it to land on the concrete below. His feet dragged forward again, bringing him a foot or two forward before he decided to stop. He moved forward without thinking much…these were Witches. They may still attack if he got too close…

As the infected who first replied to him resumed licking her claws of any sugar, the other Witch turned to face the boy. Thankfully, she didn't seem to mind the fact that he'd neared quite a bit. "Well…you can hear words coming out of our mouths, can't you?" she said, staring at the teen through her dirtied, blonde hair. She used her left hand…or, claw, as it was more fitting to be called now…to brush her hair from her face and behind her ear. Instead of letting her attention drift back to the sweet contents of the bag below, she turned herself so she could face the hooded figure more easily.

He stared back in a sort of awkward, silent way. Once what seemed to be an hour or so-which, in reality, was only a good ten seconds-passed, he began to open his mouth to say something else. He stopped himself, though, as he heard another new sound ring through his ears.

One gunshot.

Two gunshots.

…And now, there was some kind of psychopathic laugh piercing through the air.

As they heard the sounds, both Witches instantly lifted their selves to their feet. They quickly walked away, taking a seat in shadowed areas of the alley before fully resuming their usual screams and cries.

While they had done so, the purple-marked hoodie boy was staring into the direction the sounds seemed to come from. Curiosity had gotten a hold of him…he wanted to know what was going on. He'd most likely see a scene with a Survivor, trying to escape the horde, which was a normal sight for him. However…

…The Survivor wasn't just any mere human. This human was someone that the hooded boy knew…


	2. Chapter 2

A song is featured in this chapter; it's called Hero, and is by Skillet. I'm like, a major Panhead, so...yeah.

No judging. Shsh.

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Down in the streets a human dashed, a smile spread across his face with every swing of the katana he held. Infected blood painted the skies as bodies slowly fell to the ground, creating a sort of pathway that the male would use. He continued his sprint through the streets, letting a psychopathic laugh rumble from his throat as he stabbed one undead through the face. In a rough manner, he shoved his arm to the right, managing to rip his bloody blade out of the corpse's skull with a sickening 'crack.' As he swung his blade away, he found that it got stuck in something else; his laugh was increasing to a rather hysterical tone at the site of a body at his feet, and a head somehow skewered onto the tip of his katana.

The grey-skinned male from earlier was witnessing all of this, as he sat silently atop the railing of what used to be a motel. He had to admit…he was pretty amused at the moment. No Survivor he had ever seen had enjoyed killing every walking Infected in sight…ever. Slowly, he tilted his head and pulled his hood back over his head, shadowing the top half of his face in a shadow. His hand slipped into his jacket pocket, pulling out one of the several lollipops he had acquired from the store earlier. After unwrapping it, he set it in his mouth, then soon laid his focus back onto the fighting figure below. Now, it seemed that he was pulling out a couple of pipe bombs…

Quickly, the teen in the streets picked his hands from his jeans' pockets. He set off what seemed to be a couple of explosives, chucking them both forwards and backwards. As he saw two groups of Infected gathering around both bombs, the smirk upon the male's face seemed to curve into a full Cheshire smile in several moments. The sound of ticking rang through his ears, so he turned and climbed atop a van which happened to be right below the spot the hooded figure was perched on. Silently, he sat cross-legged atop the van's roof, adjusting his skin-tight, blue longsleeve before crossing his arms over his chest. As he heard the ticking sound from both bombs grow both louder and faster, he released a few chuckles. "Ses…dul…hana…" he counted down in a language other than English, narrowing his frosty, piercing blue gaze at the streets below.

At the word 'hana'-also known as 'one'-both bombs exploded, completely obliterating the Infected around them. Rotted flesh and bones now rained down from the sky, and as he saw this, the boy atop the van gripped his snowy, blood-smudged hair with his hands and broke out into yet another laugh attack. "BOOM, MOTHAFUCKAS!" he yelled, choking on his words. He took a few moments to regain his breath and stop laughing, still wearing a satisfied smile across his face as he took a final look at the various organs and body parts scattered around the street, as well as the motel's parking lot. After looking around and ensuring that there were no more Infected-for the moment, at least-the male slowly started to bring himself back to his feet, stopping himself as he felt a claw-like object poke into his shoulder.

He gave his head a quick shake, ruffling his hair out before turning to face both behind and above him. Before the violet-marked hoodie guy could react, the teen on the van quickly brought his right fist up, uppercutting this new stranger up the face. After he was struck, the grey-skinned male fell backwards and off the railing, landing on the walkway in front of the motel's rooms with a painful 'thud.' His hood fell back off of his head as he made his way down, revealing his face, which, at the moment, held a rather pain-filled look.

The white-haired boy shook his fist, finding the blow he had just delivered was both painful on his and the stranger's end. A scowl replaced the earlier smile from earlier, and he jumped up, gripping the rail with both of his hands. He hauled himself up, dragging himself over the bar and onto the area next to the fallen Infected. Sharply, he brought his newfound glare to face the being laying down below, but his expression suddenly changed from an angered one to a shocked as he looked at the person.

With a groan of pain, the hooded figure lifted himself into the sitting position, tilting his neck to both sides. The sound of bones cracking snapped through the air, and soon afterwards, he adjusted the lollipop's position within his mouth, since it had somehow remained in there without choking him. After doing so, the teen shook his head, looking up to the human who stood to his side.

"Aye…that's a fuckin' great way to greet someone, ain't it Anton? Goddamn…"

**_*As the Virus Began to Spread; 1 Year Ago*_**

A man paced back and forth quickly, shaking his head constantly as he quietly mouthed his thoughts to himself. His eyes were closed rather tightly, only opening as he came to a sudden stop. Both eyes of his, showing a worried expression, locked onto his wife, who was standing a foot or two away from his current location. "We need…to get ourselves out of here," he said in an unstable voice, taking a rough breath after speaking. Obviously, the male was stressed. The female sighed, slowly making her way towards her lover. Gently, she rested her hands onto his shoulders, squeezing them softly in as if she were giving him a massage.

"Just calm yourself down, hun…" she whispered to him in a soothing manner, leaning forwards. Her head rested against the side of his left arm, and she stared up at him as he turned his face to look at her. A small, comforting smile stretched across her lips as her gaze met his. "Now, Sly…tell me. Shouldn't we be telling the boys instead of standing here and worrying…?"

Quietly, the male released several stressed breaths, soon forcing himself to calm down. After doing so, he let out a semi-shaky sigh, nodding to his wife's words. "You're right, Jayda…" he murmured in reply, letting his gaze drag away from the woman's. Carefully, he let the head resting on his arm slide off, and soon made his way down a hall of the very house they stood in. Jayda's earlier smile faded slowly as she followed after Sly.

With each step he took forward, sounds seem to ring louder, louder through both his and his wife's ears. Soon, he stopped in front of a closed door, smiling and chuckling quietly to himself. From within this room, a chain of tunes sounded. Both Sly and Jayda simply stood from outside of the room for a minute or two, listening to the music their two sons were currently making.

From within the room, both an electric guitar and a full drum set could be heard. Both instruments were played in a very different way-that was for sure. Despite the differences between the two, however, they seemed to blend together in a smooth manner. The beat produced by whoever was playing the drums wasn't too overpowering, so the one who was playing the guitar was able to be heard as equally as the drummer. After a good few seconds of playing, a voice started off, letting the first vocals of the song the two sons within their room were playing. Both boys shifted lyrics, and there was the occasional few moments where both would combine their voices. As a result of the combination, it seemed like their was some sort of voice overlay, due to the amount of similarity in the two's voices. The first lyrics rang through the closed door, as a semi high-pitched voice sang the first few lines of the song;

"I'm just a step away, I'm just a breath away! Losing my faith today~"

After the ending of that line, a second, but very similar voice followed up for a sort of background.

"We're falling of the edge today~"

As the background voice finished, the main vocal continued.

"I am just a man; not a superhuman~"

Once again, the background voice took place.

"I'm not superhuman~"

The voices continued to shift on and off, soon combining together as they reached the first chorus of the song;

"I need a hero, to save me now! I need a hero-to save me now…I need a hero, to save my life! A hero's gonna save me, just in time! …"

As the combination of voices faded into the sound of the guitar and drums, Sly decided to stop the waiting right there. Slowly, he gripped the door's handle and turned it to the left, pushing it open afterwards. It was then that his two sons were about to continue with the second verse of the song, but they faded off in time as they saw their parents walk through the door.

"I've gotta fight today, to…" one of the white-haired boys-specifically the one holding the guitar-began singing again, letting himself fade off in a slightly awkward style as he saw both Sly and Jayda enter the room. A small smile spread across his lips due to awkwardness, and he reeled his hands away from his instrument. His brother did the same, putting his drumsticks down and pushing his hands into his hoodie's pockets.

"Oh…hey Mom, hey Dad. What's up?" the guitarist asked, pushing the sleeves of his blue, skin-tight longsleeve up to his elbows. After doing so, he let his left hand rest on his knee, and at the same time, he gave the back of his head a quick scratch with his free hand. Before the two's father began to speak, the guitarist exchanged glances with his brother, who was still stationed behind a drumset in the corner. He seemed to ask him through eye contact something along the lines of, "Whaddaya think he's here for?" As if he understood exactly what he was trying to question, the drummer shrugged and shifted his hands within his hoodie's pockets, giving back a confused stare that simply said, "Dunno."

Sly began to speak, and that was when his sons' attention was put onto him. "Boys…I'm guessing you know what's been happening recently. You know…about the whole recent infection? The Green Flu, I think you guys call it?" the father asked rather quietly, as he seemed to slip back into the hands of concern. He forced himself to calm down, though, letting his gaze harden along with his whole stance. At once, he stopped any shaking he might've been doing, crossing his arms over his chest in a similar manner to his guitarist.

After speaking, the man let a small scowl spread across his face. The sound of soft chuckles came from his sons, and soon the drummer lifted his gaze to face his father. "Course we heard about it Dad…if that's why you seem like you're so worked up right now, don't worry. It's just one of the many rumors that spread," he spoke in a cool, relaxed tone. It was then that Jayda stepped from her husband's side, walking over to a small table set in between two beds.

She gripped a TV remote that was rested within the center of the table, soon lifting it up and pointing it at a pretty large flatscreen in the corner. It was hooked with a couple of game consoles, and had game cases scattered around it. With a click of the 'on' button on the remote, the TV loaded up within a matter of seconds, and she shifted the channel to the news. On the screen, a newcaster was currently stating the current important events that were happening; in a small box in the corner behind her, there was a view of completely anarchy. Cars seemed to be flipped over, a select few of them set on fire. Citizens were running and screaming about, the majority of them not lasting long; they were soon hoarded by a crowd of pale-skinned, human-like creatures. Screams continued through the air, fading into static as the final footage of this camera that the newscast had managed to recover was knocked off. As the last seconds of the clip went on, the family heard the last words of the reporter before Jayda turned the TV back off:

"…And this is what used to be of Seattle."

By now drummer had lifted himself to his feet and sat himself next to his brother to get a better view of what had happened on the screen. The resemblance the two held to each other…their snow-white hair, their eyes…it was truly the marks of true twins. They both sat silently for a few moments, once again exchanging now-nervous glances with each other. After a few moments, the hoodie-clad male turned his gaze back over to both his mother and father.

"Maybe it was a prank clip…?" he suggested unsurely, continuing to shuffle his hands within his pockets. On the outside, he had forced himself to look calm…on the inside, however, he was starting to panic quite a bit.

"Would they really put something like that on the news, Aaron?" Jayda asked the boy who wore the hoodie. Her voice seemed to shift rather suddenly, being pretty soft one moment then somewhat powerful in the next. By now her simple gaze had shifted into a glare of concern and stress, similar to how Sly was looking at the moment.

Now stuck in complete silence, Aaron reeled his hands from his pockets, letting them both rest on his lap. He stared rather awkwardly at his mother for several moments, letting it be obviously known that he had no words for reply. As a few more seconds passed, he turned his head to the left, once again exchanging gazes with his brother.

"Well…maybe-" the other twin started off, letting himself stop sharply as noises started to disturb the current scene. A pounding sound beat from the front door, followed by the occasional, faint groaning sound. Every member of the family locked their gazes out of the room's door and into the hallway, cautiously trying to angle themselves from their locations to peer into the receiving room of the house. No luck whatsoever.

Quickly, both boys rose to their feet. They both made haste towards two racks hung upon a wall of the room, and the longsleeve-clad male motioned his parents over to their location. After both Sly and Jayda were besides their sons, Aaron lifted his right hand up and gripped the handle of a katana. Carefully, he put his left hand under the blade to support it as he lifted it off. "…Check the window, would ya Anton?" he asked his brother, not letting his gaze drift away from the hallway as he spoke.

'Anton' gave a silent nod in reply, dragging his feet along the floor as he brought himself in front of a glass pane. His hands slipped into his grey, chained jeans' pockets, and he seemed to freeze in the standing position as soon as he saw what he did. Outside, everything had shifted from a peaceful, semi-quiet row of homes and their families to a path of anarchy. For a moment, the white-haired boy's gaze was following a man; he was running for several moments, soon forced to stop. A crowd of human-like figures had dashed after him and were swarming him, and after they had him pinned to the floor, began tearing the flesh off of him…while he was still alive and breathing. The result was a chain of painful screams of agony that died down within time.

It was faint, but the other three managed to hear it the same moment Anton did. Both Sly and Jayda took the two of the blades hanging on one of the racks, leaving one left for their son on the hooks that Aaron stood next to. Quickly, Anton made a fast chain of steps towards the wall, lifting the remaining katana from its place. After acquiring the blade, he decided to check the window again…until yet another disturbance struck the four's attention.

The pounding from the front door had been growing louder by the minute, but now, a new sound was able to be heard. The sound of a glass shattering breezed through the air, followed by a chorus of moans and growls. They seemed to be louder than the ones from earlier, and also seemed to be gaining volume gradually. Sly slowly took a few cautious steps forward, stopping himself as he saw a pale-skinned, drooling human dragging itself through a hallway. It seemed to see him, so it started to make a dash towards the father in reaction.

Seeing that he 'set off' the Infected human, Sly stationed his left foot behind him as an anchor. As the undead came within a foot or two of distance, the man gripped the his katana with both hands, thrusting its black blade forwards. Seeing that the tip of the blade had skewered through the figure's gut, he quickly slashed to the right, ripping the blade from its rotten flesh. For a moment, the corpse staggered backwards after the strike, so Sly took advantage. He let his left hand free of his blade, spun its handle around in his right, then stepped forward and quickly stabbed it so that the blade entered the left side of the face, and exited through the right.

Aaron was standing besides his brother once again by now, and was watching his father's actions with a small smile on his face. "Nice to know that ya still got the moves, Dad," he commented, directing his smile towards Sly. His father returned with a smile of his own, but just for a moment. After doing so, he stepped out into the hallway, only to be nearly tackled down by another incoming Infected. Thanks to the fact that his wife had stepped in just before he was bitten, the both were now fighting side by side through a small crowd of zombies within their home.

Now, the twins were left alone. Anton took one step forward after making a decision to help his mother and father, stopping himself sharply as he heard another shattering of glass right behind him. He turned on his heels, narrowing his eyes at the now-broken window frame. A strong glare took over his once-calmed gaze as he saw a pretty small-sized, laughing creature latching onto his brother. It seemed to remind him of Gollum from lord of the Rings, which was both odd and disturbing at the same time…

…Fuck, enough of those thoughts.

Anton shook his head, lifting his blade in front of him with his right hand. He tried his best to keep his focus onto the creature clinging onto Aaron, but it was too damn hard…the thing was dragging the hoodie-clad teen with it everywhere around the room. They crashed into everything…the walls…the beds…the drumset…aaaaaand now the whole room was a complete and utter waste.

Seeing that there would be no easier way of ending this, the longsleeved boy let his eye twitch a bit from frustration before tackling his brother down. He heard him curse underneath him from the sudden impact, but ignored him. At the moment, he had one thing on his mind; kill that damn Gollum-like thing. His gaze locked onto creature, following it everywhere it went. It ran about the room, jumping off of the clutter that lay everywhere before pushing off of its feet in an attempt to leap and latch onto him.

Thankfully, he had seen the ugly little bastard going into the jumping position, so Anton seemed to see this coming. As soon as it lifted from the ground, the snowy white-haired boy ducked and shot his right leg upwards. He felt his foot smack something, and he looked up after a moment to see the creature fly into the ceiling. Before it could land down and on him, Anton locked both feet on the ground before swinging his blade upwards. The tip of it stabbed through the Gollum's forehead, and soon it was skewered and hanging off in a similar manner to Sly's victim from earlier.

Slowly, Anton lifted his right foot and locked it into the motionless corpse, kicking it off of his weapon. Not bothering to tend to the blood that was now smudged on the metal, he shifted his gaze over to his brother. He seemed to be knocked out, and it looked like he was touching something on his neck before he did so…

Silently, the boy crouched next to his brother. He gripped his wrist gently, pulling it off of his neck. His eyes opened a little bit at the sight of a fresh wound, which probably came from that laughing thing that was now laying on the floor of the room. The wound seemed off…it had a few traces of normal, red blood that a gash would be pouring with. However…it was also ringed with a green substance, which was slowly mixing in with his brother's blood.

"Aaron…" Anton murmured in a quiet tone, prodding his brother's body as he spoke.

"…C'mon…wake up, man…"

**_*End of the Flashback*_**


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, song lyrics are mentioned. Look for the words "Kkeut omneun jonjengeun nugul wiheinna…" which are spoken in Korean.

This is from a Korean song (Obviously, HAH) called **Warrior**. It's preformed by a K-pop group called B.A.P.

* * *

Silent. That's all that Anton was for the next few moments. So many thoughts had been racing through his mind; he had finally found his brother again. After the decision to leave him behind, one year back, since he wouldn't wake up…it was the thing he had regretted the most, besides leaving his mother and father behind that day as well.

He hadn't realized it, but Anton's eyes had been widened ever since he realized that the Infected down on the floor was his brother. Almost instantly he snapped off from his sudden daze, extending his right arm in front downwards. He held his opened hand in front of his kin, signaling the Infected to grab on so he could get back up. The hooded figure stared at his brother's hand for a moment, putting on a small grin before grasping it with his own.

As soon as he was pulled from the ground, Aaron found himself in a sudden, brief, and loose embrace. His gaze slowly drifted onto the white-haired boy, and he started to wonder for a second. Before, Anton barely let anyone hug him…and, he himself never really did the actual hugging. At least, not until now. "Ehm…ya missed me that much, eh Anton?" the hooded teen asked, patting his brother's back in an awkward way as he spoke.

Quickly, the sweater-clad teen let go. He scratched the back of his head, having realized what he'd done a little too soon. "I guess…?" he murmured awkwardly, waiting a few moments before giving his kin another look in the eye. "Okay, what the Hell. 'Course I did…it's been a damn year, for cryin' out loud," the boy spoke again, this time in a different tone. Now, instead of speaking in a voice tone filled with awkwardness, he spoke…normally. He had a smile on as he was talking, just like he did last year, as well as all of the years before the flu started. Once he thought of the times back then, Aaron couldn't help but let his small, shadowed smile grow a little larger.

For several moments, the two brothers remained in a still silence. Anton, though, broke it. "So…ehm…" he started off, his voice a little shaky. "…How…how exactly is it? Y'know…being what…you are…now…" he continued, soon forming a question. On the outside, the white-haired teen was beginning to get a grasp on his normal expression; on the inside, however, he was beating himself up for the poor choice of words he had just used. His right hand twitched, ever so faintly, showing that he regretted the set of words he'd used as a sentence.

Being his brother, Aaron knew that Anton tended to choose his words poorly. In the past, it happened quite often in tight or unusual instances. The thought of the Infected's brother constantly stuttering and 'tripping,' word after word after friends of theirs backed him into a tight corner while trying to get answers from him (from personal questions o3o) just last year crossed through his mind, and he couldn't help but laugh to himself as he remembered. "Asking about how it's like being a Hunter, right?" the zombie asked, raising both hands up. They both gripped his hood and pulled it down, revealing his dirtied, grey hair. A small bit of his golden eyes shone from underneath grey locks.

Anton stared at his kin, now slightly confused. "Hunter…? The fuck is a-"

The teen was cut off by a distant ruckus. Both boys' attentions were brought to the northeast, where the sounds were coming from. It was most likely another Survivor. Anton was silently debating with himself whether he should go or not, but if he did, that would mean that he'd have to leave this reunion with his twin. He was about to make a final decision to stay, however before he confirmed it with himself, Aaron spoke and snapped him from his silent argument.

"You should probably check that out, man," he said, staring into the eyes of the sweater-clad boy. Though he wasn't saying anything, Aaron could see that he was arguing against that statement with his gaze. It seemed to be raging, because he didn't want to leave right there and then. The Infected sighed and patted his kin on the shoulder. "Tell you what. Meet me at the mall that we used to hang out at with our friends. Bring the human with you-if he or she actually IS a human-if you manage to get on good terms with them. 'Til then, I'll be off," he added. Before Anton had a chance to reply, Aaron had already started climbing up the motel walls. He quickly gripped the roof with his hands and hauled himself upwards. By the time that Anton himself had pulled himself up, there was no sight of his brother any longer. The boy cursed to himself, gripping his head rather tightly with his hands for several moments before finally turning another direction. He went into a sprint, leaping from one rooftop to the next to near the sounds of the earlier scene.

He soon stopped, now crouching at the ledge of one of the many rooftops. His gaze was locked onto a battle down below; a female, it was looking to be, was currently fighting for her life. Anton gave a few laughs, seeing her swing a rather large, double-ended scythe about the horde. As he watched, the teen could see that she was managing pretty well. Many Infected bodies were hooked onto the blades of her weapon, their blood constantly splattering the skies with each swing of the scythe that she made.

The horde didn't seem to lay down, however. With each Infected that the girl sent down to the ground, it seemed as if two or three more corpses came to replace them. 'She's gonna be overrun soon,' the blue-dressed male thought to himself. A smile spread over his face, and he silently brought his blue and black earphones (which had been hooked over his shoulders and neck) to his ears. He then slid his right hand into his pocket, pressing a button on a hidden mp3 player. After a moment, sounds of music filled his ears, and the boy gave off a rough sigh.

He sang the lyrics of the foreign song playing through his ears, slowly pulling the sniper rifle slung over his back off. Both his actions and his words were in perfect sync.

"Kkeut omneun jonjengeun nugul wiheinna…"

Carefully, he brought the gun's scope upwards to his right eye. He moved the gun around slowly, soon getting the sight of an Infected's head right in the center of his view. His right index finger crawled onto the trigger, while his whole left hand supported the underside of the sniper. After ensuring that he wouldn't have any chances of missing, he pulled the trigger, releasing a bullet into the air. It shot through the corpse's head, and soon another bullet shot through the skull of the corpse standing next to it. Both fell down, side by side, and for a moment the girl's actions stopped. Her gaze lifted, following the streak of smoke left from the sniper bullet. She saw the boy up high within moments, when he was securing his gun back over his shoulders.

The boy met her gaze as he was reaching into his left pocket. His smile grew a little larger, and he gave a small nod as a silent greeting to her. After doing so he tucked his hand into his pocket. He pulled out his last remaining pipe bomb then set it off, throwing it a distance from the teen (she looked to be a teen) down below. As soon as the explosive's beeping started, the horde dispersed. They all regrouped around the bomb, clawing and trying to get at it just like the previous times earlier that day.

As the undead did so, Anton jumped down onto the roof of a van, then down to the ground below. He took several steps forward until he was maybe a couple of feet or so away from her. A moment a silence was shared, and was soon cut off by the sound of the third explosion caused that day. Bits and chunks of rotten meat rained down to the Earth once again, causing Anton to chuckle lightly to himself.

He stopped himself, however, as he brought his gaze back up to meet the other Survivor's. While he did, his smile seemed to shrink down a little, turning into the smile of not a crazy, bloodshot psychopath, but of a…well, I guess you could say one of a polite gentleman. Slowly, he lifted his arm up and held an open hand to the teen across from him.

"The name's Anton."

Eyes narrowed, the young woman stared at Anton's hand for a moment. The boy with snow-white hair waited for her reaction, then let his smile grow a little bit as she finally took his hand. "Alyss," the girl said simply as she felt Anton's grip on her own hand loosen after a brief, gentle shake, then finally release.

Once he broke the grip of hands with this Alyss girl, Anton crossed his arms over his chest quietly. He took a moment to scan the teen right across from him. From what he could physically see, Alyss had a sort of stormy grey shade of eyes, hair of a ginger, sort of light strawberry shade, a grey top which opened over her chest-but was covered by a patch of bandages-a pair of black shorts, and some black boots. In her hand she was carrying her own weapon; a big-ass double-bladed scythe.

Alyss simply looked at Anton as he looked her over, letting the bottom blade of her scythe lock into the ground before leaning gently into it. She tilted her head as he finally appeared to finish his 'inspection,' then locked gazes with him before deciding to speak. "You enjoying what you're seeing?" she asked with a small, somewhat teasing smile.

It seemed as if Anton jerked back in slight shock at the question. The earlier, polite smile from just a few moments ago was now replaced with a slightly flustered, panicked expression. "W-wait, waitwaitwait, what? No, no no no I wasn't-" he replied in a fast, slightly difficult to comprehend manner. He cut himself off, however, as he took just a second to take another look at the young woman. Skin…so much skin was exposed. And the areas of skin that were exposed…they were just covered by a pretty thin layer of bandages. It was at that moment that the blue-eyed teen came into a sharp realization, and he felt himself heat up in the head. Just a little bit, at least.

_Ahhh…dammit._

After that short, two-worded thought passed his mind, Anton drew in a deep, silent breath. Once he held it for a moment or two he released it, letting what seemed to be kind of a loud sigh escape from his mouth. An attempt to calm himself and catch his thoughts…that's what he was trying to do. Just to calm down…calm…down…

"I assume your sudden silence means a yes?"

_…GOD FUCKING DAMMIT._

And with that remark, the white-haired teen felt himself flipping out on the inside.


End file.
